


In The Closet

by PigeonDreams



Series: NatePat Ficlets [4]
Category: Natepat - Fandom
Genre: Asking important questions about the future, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Double Meaning Title, Drama, Foreplay, Game Theory, Hickeys, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Just another LA Divorcee, Just warming up, Lime, Matt is easily seduced, Nate's a little attention whore, Saucy, Secret Relationship, This wasn't supposed to get this sexy, a bit mood whiplash-y, at least I didn't write them actually in the act, sorry mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PigeonDreams/pseuds/PigeonDreams
Summary: Matt wants to get some recording done. Unfortunately, Nate wants Matt.





	In The Closet

**Author's Note:**

> You know, this was just going to be a fluffy drabble to distract me from my dysphoric episode. And now it's... well, it's actually pretty close except for the...uh... everything in it.

MatPat was tucked into in his closet, recording his newest theory. He talked animatedly into his microphone.

"So, mystery solved, right? Except wait, how could the juju—" He was interrupted by a banging on the door. Groaning, he slid it open. "Skeep, it's not even close to feeding time—"

Matt was caught off-guard. Outside the door was not his cat, but Nate crawling on his hands and knees, giving him a doe-eyed look.

"Well, it's definitely not close to your feeding time," he snarked.

"Ha ha," Nate mocked in turn. "I'm not here for food. I'm here to join you." Nate scooted into the closet—it was a tight squeeze—and curled up around Matt, putting his arms around MatPat's neck and tucking his head into his boyfriend's chest. He closed his eyes and put on a dopey smile, mimicking sleep. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"Easier said than done. Your head's blocking my computer screen." Matt pouted.

"Okay, here." Nate readjusted himself so that his head was tucked into Matt's collarbone. "Better?"

"Yes." Matt proceeded. His editor would just cut the incriminating audio out.

"Using, our Jade measurements, we can assume that frog tower is a thousand twenty-five feet high, then we can assume the island is about four-thirteen by siiiiiiiix...gah...babe..."

Nate nibbled and sucked at Matt's throat, which elicited some heavy moans. Matt's spine tingled as warm tongue ran over fresh hickeys. "Nathan... Smith... you goddamn bastard. You know you're getting exactly what you want, right?" He panted; his breaths were becoming quick and shallow. Matt felt teeth sink into his skin. He cried out from the mix of pain and pleasure.

With a devilish grin, Nathan moved the computer to the side, revealing his prize. He reached for the fly of the jeans, only to start undoing it slowly, much to Matt's chagrin.

"Just do it, you little pervert!" Matt's fingernails dug into Nate's upper back.

"Ah-ah-ah. Patience is a virtue, sweetheart." Nate scolded in a saccharine tone. "It's coming, darling."

Matt pouted, unbuttoning his shirt—or rather, the shirt he was borrowing—so he could at least touch himself up there.

"Here we go," Nate cooed in that syrupy-sweet voice, "you look delicious." He licked his lips, ready to begin.

 

* * *

 

Matt bashfully pulled up his boxers and pants. He always felt shy after sex. He buttoned up his borrowed shirt, but he knew would do nothing to hide the sea of wine and red that covered his neck. Nate ran his fingers though Matt's hair, to "fix" it. They were both covered by a thin layer of sweat.

The computer screen glowed, showing the audio had preserved this moment. Matt went from pink to ghostly white.

"I'm going to have to rerecord that, you know. Audio of me getting blown is _not_ going to see the light of day."

"You could send it to me." Nate received an icy glare for that.

"You know, I could help you record." Nate glanced over the script, and forced the most nasally, ear-grating noises from his mouth. _"Hello, internet! Welcome to Game Theory!"_

Matthew was not amused. "No."

"Why not?"

"We don't wanna even hint at us being in in a relationship. As far as the internet knows, I am _married_ to a _woman_." He set his recording gear back up.

There was a pregnant pause. "You're going to have to tell them eventually."

"Not now."

"People are asking questions, Matt. You're going to have to answer them."

That was the con of growing a community of theorists. They could put two and two together pretty quickly. And when you give them something as big as Steph's three-month "family emergency"... Well, the blind could see that something was up.

Honestly, he was a bit jealous. Jealous that Nate had less to answer for—he just told his fans that he was seeing someone and wanted to keep it private. Sure, the fangirls inquired, but at least it was the simple truth. But the (soon-to-be, there's a lot of paperwork and shit) divorcee would have to tell his fans why he and Steph had split after almost ten years. He'd have to find the most flattering angle of _I left my loyal wife and business partner for someone I'd only encountered about nine times in my life. Sure, now she's in North Carolina refusing to answer my calls and I'll be lucky if I get to see my child ever again. Oh yeah, and it's a **man**. I spent thirty-one-point-seven-five years of my life trying to convince everyone I was straight as a line, but guess what? I'm the stereotypical theater twink I appear to be._

"Aw, shit, now you're worrying about it. Matt no, please don't. It doesn't do anything except give me anxiety." Nate embraced Matt. "Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, out..."

Matthew clung on to his boyfriend's henley for dear life, inhaling and exhaling Nate's ocean-scented cologne. It was the new smell of home.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops I accidentally created another connecting universe


End file.
